Parents
by rogueandkurt
Summary: Some things, we're not sure we want to know. Oneshot. Reid centric.


**43. Parents**

**Rating:** K

**Author:** rogueandkurt

**Fandom:** Criminal Minds

And I'm back! (Bet you thought it'd be another seven months, right?)

I'm not too sure about this fic - I wasn't going to post it originally, but I was inspired by a season 4 spoiler I read the other day. Rest assured, though, there are **no spoilers** in this fic.

Apologies in advance for any medical/psychological innaccuracies containted within.

**Disclaimer:** None of the recognizable characters are mine.

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_"Diana - you missed work again. That's the fourth time in three months. There's already talk at the university about firing you!"_

Spencer ducked his head over his math homework as his father's voice rang out from his parent's room.

_"I was just caught up with my readings," _his mother replied mildly, her quiet voice barely discernable from the next room.

_"That's all you ever do anymore."_ William sighed. _"How much longer is this going to go on? Did you even eat today?"_

_"I...I lost track of time. I needed to focus on my work - it's very important. The students look forward to my lectures."_

_"I don't know how much longer I can put up with this, Diana. There's obviously something wrong here, and you refuse to do anything about it."_ Spencer pictured his father gesturing wildly to the mess of papers and books and plates of food, a sight that had become increasingly common as of late. _"Look at this place! I know how passionate you are about your work, but you can't even take care of yourself anymore."_

_"I'm fine. I just have a lot of work to do."_

Spencer heard his father before he saw him - his frustrated sigh a familiar one as he stalked into the living room. The brown-haired youth tried to make himself small where he lay on his stomach, focusing his attention on the next math problem as his dad made his way towards a ragged armchair.

William gave an angry yelp as he tripped on one of the textbooks Spencer had piled around himself on the floor.

"Spencer, would you put these books away already? You're as bad as your mother," his dad fumed, kicking the book out of his path as he turned his frustration on the small boy. "You're nine years old, for godsakes! Go outside and play!"

The young prodigy didn't waste time in arguing as he hurriedly gathered his homework into skinny arms, gripping it tightly. Silently, he watched his father slump into a nearby armchair with a stormy expression. He hesitated, knowing it was sometimes a mistake to talk to his father in this state.

"D-Dad? Do you want to hear about what we learned today?" he stammered, hoping to ease his father's mood by discussing his area of expertise. There was no reply, so he pushed on. "Mrs. Miles taught us algebra. S-She says I've got a talent for it - just like you. And-And she taught us how to solve for problems with an unknown variable by defining the variable--"

"I already know how to do that, Spencer," William interrupted snappishly, his eyes darting up to meet his son's hurt expression. He sighed, bringing his temper under control. "I'm very tired, son. Why don't you finish your homework in your room?"

The bespectacled boy knew a dismissal when he heard one. Quietly, he turned and left. Behind him, William Reid paid his departure little attention as he sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Spencer walked past his parent's room, the partially open door granting him a glimpse of his mother's form on the bed. She was reading Chaucer idly, stopping every few seconds to make notes on the many papers that surrounded her.

He closed the door to his bedroom without a sound - neither of his parents appreciated a ruckus. He set the pile of textbooks and papers on his desk, resolving to finish it later. With a sigh, he trudged over to his bed, sitting heavily down next to it.

It was getting worse. His parents - while never openly affectionate people in the general sense - had always gotten along in the past. No matter how much Spencer wanted to believe things were still the same, he knew something in his family had changed these past few months. The late-night book discussions he and his mother shared had been interrupted lately by Diana getting lost in thought mid-sentence, or going off on strange tangents that had nothing to do with the books they'd been reading. She ate fewer meals, and it was beginning to show in the bagginess of her clothes. William pestered her to eat better, to clean up after herself, to comb her long blonde hair, but Spencer had watched as she merely shrugged off his concerns, insisting that her work took precedence over all else. And with each increase in his mother's apathy, his father's patience shrank to match.

Spencer dropped to his stomach, easing himself under the side of his bed, one hand grasping forward. He found the book right where he'd left it - carefully hidden underneath his least-favourite red sweater, behind his stash of science fiction magazines. He pulled it out and sat up, leaning against the side of his bed, tome in hand.

He'd lost track of how many weeks it'd been since he'd borrowed it from the library - he'd grown quite accustomed to renewing it at almost every visit. Never before had he had a book in his possession for so long without reading it, but he'd found himself without the courage to so much as glance at the table of contents. For the first time in his life, Spencer was afraid of what he might learn.

He pushed his glasses up farther on his nose, his eyes glossing over the hardcover. The harsh red font stared back at him, challenging him to open the front cover and face his fears confirmed.

_50 Signs of Mental Illness: A Guide to Understanding Mental Health__._

He licked his lips, his fingers curling around the cover's edge.

Spencer closed his eyes. Carefully, he slipped the book back under his bed, covering it once more with his sweater.

_Later_, he decided, getting to his feet. He'd read it later.

_Fin._

* * *

Well, there you have it. I don't know why I keep feeling the need to write these 'young Spencer' fics, but I've got at least one more to go.

Incidentally, the book Reid has is a real book, written by James Whitney Hicks. I hold no claim over it, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Comments/Feedback/Concrit/etc are all greatly appreciated, so if you have the time and the inclination, please feel free to leave a review!

I'll be trying to add a new fic every week or two, so stay tuned.

Keep Smiling! ;)

rogueandkurt


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